Everstone Stand, huh?

Your mind buzzes with questions: who is this woman? Who apparently are you? And why is everybody addressing you like you're some kind of royalty? This was all so complicated, so real... and as the possibility of this being just some kind of elaborate joke or drunken delusion falls away around you the desire to pull this horse to a stop and demand some answers grows in its place.

But... you just can't bring yourself to do it. After all, if by some chance that note HAD been real, it'd just make you sound like a madman. And after what the Seven Kingdoms did to its last mad noble... well, it'd be better just to avoid that. Besides, it wasn't like having your body lightly bucked and rub up against your (apparent) retainer's sexy plump bubble butt ass was exactly , though you manage to keep it down (alright... somewhat down) long enough to arrive at your destination: a small, stout sitting atop the coastal highlands: looking down on a steady slope towards a pair of fishing villages. The sentries stand at attention as you pass into the courtyard; slipping off the horse almost without a thought. Your savior looks down on your with a mischievous smile, pulling tight on the reigns. "Now don't you go wandering off like that again, ya here? I don't want you making this transition any... harder then it needs to be." She tussles your hair playfully before heading off towards the stable, leaving you standing dumbfounded in front of the main doorway.

Eventually, through enough wandering around and advice from the concerned-looking or giggling staff, you manage to find your way to the audience chamber: a small if fairly ornate seat set on an elevated position. You settle yourself into the soft cushions... glad to give your sore ass a rest from the strain of walking and bareback riding, using these peaceful moments to take stock. "Alright... let's assume this is actually happening." You mumble to yourself, relieved you're alone to finally make this admission. "And I'm apparently the lord of... somewhere. Guess that makes sense." You try to rub away the pain in your temple, squinting to see in the slowly fading torchlight as you calm down and adjust. Soon enough, the chair starts to feel natural... the initial panic and fear subsiding into at least a basic acceptance of the situation at hand. And just in time too, as the door opens and a slightly hunched, grey haired man in the black robes and chain of the Maesters coming inside.

"Ah, my Lord. The sweeping wench told me you'd be here." He walks towards you slowly. "She told me you didn't look entirely well... and the rest of the staff have said likewise. Tell me... is anything still troubling you?" He looked genuinely concerned, reaching down for a pouch at his belt. "I know you don't prefer the poppy, but if you'd at least consider it..."

"No." You shake you head. "I'm just uh.... a little out of it today. Finding it hard to relax. Perhaps you could fetch me a book? One on my family?"

The Maester smiles at your suggestion. "Great choice. I know just the one." He disappears for about ten minutes, returning both with a reading lantern and a thick, black bound tome, setting both on your handstand. "You know where to fetch me if you need something else and... no need to fall into grief." He said kindly before wandering off and leaving you to flip open the weighty book, casually flipping through it to try to get a grasp on your situation. As you spend in the evening in study, the situation slowly starts to come together....